


Things Best Left Unsaid

by CoffeeFueledAuthor



Category: South Park
Genre: Pretty emotional, has a sad ending and a happy ending, tfbw - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 13:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeFueledAuthor/pseuds/CoffeeFueledAuthor
Summary: Toolshed and fellow Freedom Pal, Mysterion, have been tasked with delivering a sobering message to their rival team, "The Coon and Friends". But, knowing just how much pain their words will cause their former allies, he's finding it a tad more difficult than he had initially expected.





	1. We Come Bearing News

**Author's Note:**

> Random short story I initially wrote for a generous fan.  
> This story has two possible endings! You can choose one depending on if you'd rather the tale have a sad or a happy ending.  
> For a more somber, sad ending, read only the first two chapters.  
> For an ending that leaves off on a bit of a lighter note, read the third chapter AFTER the first two. The third chapter is an optional continuation of the story that brings the tale back into happier territory. 
> 
> As always, please be sure to let me know what you think.

The entire town had felt so still that morning; so eerily silent and apathetic. It was as if the whole world had been put on pause. Birds that normally peppered the autumn air with their upbeat songs were strangely silent, the streets that normally purred with the occasional rumble of a passing car remained completely deserted. Even the chill mountain winds seemed to have stopped for the occasion, blowing now only as a listless cold sigh across the town. The two sullen figures slowly shuffling down the sidewalk took notice of the quiet all around them. Though they tried to mentally steel themselves, the stillness was definitely not helping to make their woeful task any easier.  
With a weary sigh, the figure on the left quickly jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his thick workers gloves barely fitting into the denim enclosures. It was something he always seemed to do when he was troubled, as if he was suddenly at a loss as to where his hands should go, and so hid them away. His solemn gaze drifted to his own feet, watching the passing sidewalk through tinted safety goggles, wondering if he could really go through with this.  
Beside him, his cloaked companion had taken note of his nervous posture and troubled habits. It was clear that he was having doubts, and it hurt to see him so visibly shaken. He took a quick moment to study their current surroundings; they had almost arrived at their destination. His uneasy ally just needed to keep it together for a few more minutes. Once the task was completed, they could return to their base and regroup with the others.  
Trying to steady his friends thoughts, the dark figure on the right broke the tense silence. "You doing okay over there, Toolshed?" He quietly asked in his usual brooding tone, adjusting his hood that had shifted in the slow breeze.  
The figure beside him responded first with an unsure grunt. "I dunno..." He shrugged, the tools hooked in his thick leather belt rattling at the slight movement. "I just wonder... Is this really the best way? Do you really think we should be doing this, Mysterion?"  
The cloaked hero stiffly shook his head. "It's not my job to think." He stated, a sternness at the core of his understanding tone. "It's not yours either. This is what we were assigned to do. I'm positive Dr. Timothy has his reasons for going about it this way. Let's just do it quickly and get out of there before it gets too painful."  
Toolshed threw his head back and exhaled, his breath tracing a swirling trail in the crisp morning air. He should've known Mysterion wasn't about to question orders from their leader. His undying loyalty to the Doctor was perhaps his most admirable trait. But Toolshed couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. This felt... Mean. He knew it would hurt all those involved; himself included. Maybe there really was no easy way to do this...  
When the two heroes came to a stop at the door to their rivals domain, they knew there was no turning back. Toolshed gave his partner a steady nod; he was as ready as he was going to be. Mysterion's icy blue eyes moved back to the heavy door before them, and he began a strong, rhythmic knocking. It was time.

 

It took a moment, but eventually a hurried shuffling could be heard emanating from deep within the suburban structure. They rose in a steady crescendo, each step louder than the last until coming to a halt just on the other side of the door. Finally, and with dramatic flair, the entrance to the house boldly swung open.  
Toolshed and Mysterion instantly locked eyes with the hero standing steadily in the doorway. They could see as his face lit up with recognition, and as his posture immediately stiffened and his expression hardened at the sight of his former allies. Cautious eyes darted between the two, flickering with confusion and curiosity while remaining ever alert, as he tried to riddle out why members of the rival superhero league would dare to show up at the door of their well protected headquarters.  
Not to be intimidated, the hero straightened to his full height, the four thin wings rigged to his back subtly fanning out in response, and he puffed a questioning grunt. "What do you want?" He glared, his normally deeper tone forced into a nasally pitch by the instrument strapped to his face.  
"Relax, Mosquito." Toolshed slowly breathed, doing his best to coax the Coon Friend down from the aggressive stance he had taken. "We didn't come here to fight."  
Momentarily allowing himself to feel reassured by Toolshed's calm demeanor, a second glance at Mysterion was all it took to bring the insectoid hero right back to the edge. The cloaked immortal bore a stoic expression that seemed to radiate an aura of hostility from those icy blue eyes. The Coon Friend immediately read this as a cause for alarm, unaware that the expression was, in truth, Mysterion's attempt to conceal all the feelings of dread that threatened to consume him.  
"Oh yeah?" Mosquito defiantly folded his arms across his chest and the long bandoleer that lined it, exhaling hushed hisses and buzzing sounds between each thought. "And why should I believe that?"  
The sickening dread feeling of anxious anticipation growing exponentially with every second that passed, Mysterion found himself quickly becoming frustrated. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, and the suspicious door man was only slowing them down and serving to worsen their anxiety.  
Mysterion took a deliberate step forward, casting a constant glare in Mosquito's direction. "If we meant this as an attack," he growled, "The two of us wouldn't have come here, alone, knocking on your front door and asking to come in! How stupid do you think we are?"  
"Hey, woah, easy dude..." Toolshed quickly threw an arm in front of the dark hero's chest, gently holding him at bay. He understood Mysterions frustrated impatience stemmed from the stressful weight of their task, but if Mosquito mistook it for an aggressive threat against his Hero League, he would never allow the two Freedom Pals to enter rival territory.  
Thankfully, Toolshed managed to control the threats of budding tension with a steady hand and an understanding tone. "Sorry, Mosquito." He sighed. "It's just... We're under a lot of stress right now. We came here with a really important message; one that the Coon and all the Coon Friends need to hear. Something... something really big happened last night. Something that effects all the heroes in our town. We felt we owed it to all of you to come tell you the news in person..."

 

Mosquito regarded the two Freedom Pals standing before him in a tense silence for an agonizing moment. But as Toolshed's cryptic warning began to sink in, he finally allowed his aggressive posture to melt into a more sympathetic stance. It seemed clear from their sober and solemn expressions that they were telling the truth, and had no intention of destroying the Coon Lair from the inside. The Coon Friend's natural compassionate nature began to escape like streaks of light through cracks in his hero facade. Yet, still, he remained hesitant.  
"Well, I dunno..." Mosquito thought aloud, suddenly fixated on obsessively readjusting one of his costumes gloves. "The Coon would probably pitch a fit if I let Freedom Pals come waltzing in here..."  
This was just the opportunity Toolshed had aimed for; he had played to Mosquito's trusting personality and had him seriously considering their offer. Now he just needed to give him that final push to make the right decision.  
Without a moments hesitation, Toolshed entered the household with a bold confidence, reaching a gloved hand to his belt and retrieving his drill, his single most powerful weapon, to forcefully push into Mosquito's startled grip as a final reassurance of trust. "Five minutes. That's all we ask." He firmly stated, marching past the confused door-man before he could reconsider or refuse, his caped comrade following close on his heels.  
Mosquito gaped in silent awe at the power tool thrust upon him. Surely The Coon wouldn't fault him for granting the Freedom Pals entrance when they willingly disarmed themselves... Right? He had little time to think it through, though, since the two had already made their ways past him with such purpose. So he ultimately gave in, sparing a quick moment to push the front door closed before quickly bounding ahead to lead the way towards the underground lair.  
Having once been Coon Friends themselves, Toolshed and Mysterion had no trouble making their way past the modest furnishings of the Cartman household to the basement entrance, still marked with the raccoon themed logo. Both were grateful to see Mosquito, rather than try to force them out, dart hurriedly ahead of them and position himself at the electronic keypad that controlled the surprisingly high tech lock that kept the lair safe. The insectoid hero made a point of keeping an iron grip on the weapon sacrificed to him as he deftly punched in the short numerical code to release the door.  
Toolshed couldn't help but smirk; his gesture had worked perfectly. And, thankfully, Mosquito seemed to have forgotten that Mysterion fought using hand to hand combat, and had no weapons to relinquish, and so was just as armed and battle ready as he always was. It was the reason he had come along; things were going to get ugly, there was no denying that. But if it began to escalate beyond their control, they wouldn't be as defenseless as they had purposefully made themselves seem.  
Finally, Mosquito opened the path downstairs, and he quickly led the way into the very heart of The Coon's domain.

 

Even in these early hours, the Coon Lair was already teeming with ambitious energy as the eager band of heroes buzzed about, each engaged in their own assigned tasks while sharing vital information and updates with the one another. As Mosquito led the visitors down, Mysterion and Toolshed instantly recognized the all too familiar ambient sounds of their former allies hard at work, moving about and communicating so fluidly as if they were part of a well oiled machine. They also realized just how little had changed here since their departure; the once normal suburban basement transformed into a superheros headquarters with the use of colorful props, plenty of cardboard, and endless creativity still appeared exactly as it had on that fateful day when a significant fraction of the team had stormed out on the others, creating a league of their own.  
The two Freedom Pals turned to glance at their old home base beyond the banister as they continued their descent. Sitting in the center of the room was the large meeting table, the epicenter of the argument that had torn their team asunder. Standing just before the table at the main computer console was none other than the rival leader himself; the infamous manimal known as The Coon. His beady eyes, set beneath the bushy browed mask of the nocturnal scavenger, were locked on the glossy electronic screen, carefully studying some photographs he had taken previously of a suspected super villain hideout. Using expert precision so as not to damage the screen with his sharpened claws, he swiped the pad of one finger across the image, allowing him to examine the next in line.  
At the opposite end of the table, a second hero was equally as engaged in his assignment. His young frame was accented by the bulky padding he bore on his shoulders which, coupled with his ill-fitting shirt, helped him to appear much larger and more intimidating to any potential foes. He stared intently at the clipboard in his grip, muttering under his breath and repeatedly tapping his pen upon the sheet of handwritten notes. Every so often he would glance up at the enormous board in front of him; the board that had once laid out the entire 3 phase plan for their superhero franchise. But since the disbanding, the plan had fallen into chaos. Certain sections were now edited with the harsh strikes of a furious red marker, while other steps had been torn off entirely, leaving gaping holes in the overarching plot. Though he was trying, the Coon Friend simply couldn't seem to repair what their civil war had broken.  
A rhythmic metallic clattering rose just from the right of where the plans were being mended. It was the familiar clanking of walking braces against the floor. The swiftest of the Coon Friends gently shifted his weight on his arm bound crutches, slipping a hand out of its restraints to pin a new photo to their wall of suspected criminals. He paused briefly, looking over the rest of the pictures with off kilter eyes, before quickly shouting a question in his usual stutter to the multicolored wind-based Hero on the other end of the room. His response was almost immediate, and the speedy Coon Friend quickly plucked a particularly faded photo from the corner of the wall with bold confidence.  
The hero whom had answered the question was positioned in the corner of the lair farthest from the stairs. It was there that the super team had set up a modest training arena, complete with all manners of dummys and decoys for the heroes to practice their powerful techniques on. Though direct physical attacks weren't often employed by the normally distant long range blaster, he knew that several of the other Coon Friends were highly skilled in sending foes flying across the battle field, and so repeatedly practiced the harsh shove he'd give enemies sent his way on one of the soft battle dummies. The colorful decoy wheezed an airy squeak each time powerful hands slammed into it and launched it back into a near horizontal orientation, but would always courageously rock forward again into its normal vertical position, ready to stoically withstand the inevitable next attack.  
The final member of the rival team sat nearly motionless in one of the multiple folding chairs positioned around the meeting table. The seat had been turned so that the hero was facing away from the rest of the members, pointing almost directly into the empty corner of the basement. The Freedom Pals could only see the back of the bruisers dark blue winter hat, his hidden expression buried in his phone as he silently scrolled through social media sites, monitoring the news feed for any hints of suspicious activity.  
It was this hero that Mysterion and Toolshed locked their gaze on as they made their way down the final dingy steps. How he would react to their assigned task was anyones guess. But if they knew one thing for sure, it was that his response, like the rest of the Coon Friend's, wouldn't be pretty.  
Only after Mosquito crossed the final step did the other heroes notice the presence of their two rivals.


	2. Shattered Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: THIS STORY HAS TWO POSSIBLE ENDINGS
> 
> If you prefer an angsty, darker tone, then this chapter is the end of the story. Do NOT read the final chapter to keep the tale more somber and ambiguous. 
> 
> If you prefer a bit of a fluffy, lighter tone, then this chapter is only part 2 of 3. Read ALL 3 chapters for the happier ending. 
> 
> The continuation is only there for those who would like it! 
> 
> And please be sure to let me know what you think! Or contact me on my tumblr (coffeefueledauthor)

Every member of the Coon hero league paused and quickly turned towards the approaching freedom pals. Even Super Craig offered a side eyed glance, though he was quick to apathetically return to his smart device once he decided the visitors weren't anyone he found interesting. The others took their time to genuinely appraise the intruding Freedom Pals, offering a wide variety of facial expressions as each one reacted independently.   
Out of the lot of them, it was the Human Kite who seemed to show the most drastic response. There was no hiding the way his face lit up with a hopeful curiosity when he realized who it was that had entered their lair. After all, these two were none other than his nearest and dearest friends whom he had sorely missed since their teams had divided. Seeing them here in their former shared headquarters, he couldn't help himself from foolishly believing that surely the Pals had returned to rejoin the Coon Friends and fight by his side once more.   
Fastpass and Captain Diabetes weren't quite as optimistic, however. Though they held no genuine animosity towards their rival team, they couldn't rule out the possibility that this was a stealth attack, and they regarded the duo with cautious eyes.   
When the last of the descending figures crossed the final stair, they were immediately greeted with the sudden approach of the formidable Coon himself, stopping them in their tracks. The dark masked hero aimed a harsh glare towards them, purposefully folding his arms across his wide chest so as to make his silver clawed rings glisten under the fluorescent lights.   
"Mosquito..." The Coon began, his voice thick with frustration. "What are these Freedom Pals doing in the Coon Lair?"  
Toolshed and Mysterion met their ex-leaders gaze without wavering, while the insectoid cowered under the Coon's scrutiny.  
"They... They said they came with a message for us!" Mosquito whimpered, quickly offering his superior the drill he had been tensely clutching. "I thought, since they were disarmed, that maybe we could hear them out..."  
The Coon took Toolshed's all important weapon with an honestly surprised expression, his anger dissipating into intrigue. Deciding the two were now powerless before him, his face broke into a sly smirk as he began idly spinning the drill in his grip.   
"A message, huh?" He mumbled, beginning to slowly pace the floor. "It must be something important if you were willing to come here unarmed. What is it that you want to tell me?"  
"We didn't come here for you." Mysterion subtly rolled his eyes before marching towards the center of the room, Toolshed closely following his lead. "This is a message for all of you. One that we felt you deserved to hear in person."  
With the eyes of almost every other hero upon them, the two came to a stop beside the main table, pausing only momentarily to still their nerves with a deep sigh. Slowly, Toolshed lifted a work glove towards his face, gently removing the tinted safety goggles that colored his vision. At the same time, Mysterion moved to carefully pull back his dark hood, revealing the messy blonde head of hair hidden beneath.  
The aura within the lair tensed enormously as the heroes surrounding the Freedom Pals realized from this gesture the true significance of this all important intel. They looked to them impatiently, waiting anxiously to hear the info.  
But Mysterion and Toolshed weren't meeting their gaze. Instead, their eyes were locked onto the blue covered form of the one Coon Friend that hadn't looked their way.   
It was his reaction that concerned them most. 

 

"It happened just last night..." Toolshed began with an audible wavering in his voice, suddenly too preoccupied staring at his shoes so as not to make eye contact with any of the Coon Friends surrounding him. "We were following up on a lead we had gotten that afternoon on some suspicious activity..."  
Noticing the significant pause the Freedom Pal took, Captain Diabetes took the opportunity to press for more info. "What suspicious activity?" He questioned, honestly astounded that their rival team had managed to scrounge up inside intel that they had apparently failed to learn for themselves.   
"It wasn't even anything all that bad." Toolshed wiped at his safety goggles using the bottom of his recently laundered work shirt to give his anxious hands something to do. "We had been following a string of petty vandalisms near some of the restaurants downtown. Usually it was nothing more than some tags spray painted on a wall or a broken sign or lawn ornament. We'd been looking into the problem for about a week now, but since we were never able to catch anyone in the act, we pretty much just helped to sandblast and repaint whatever needed it, and offered to remove and dispose of whatever couldn't be fixed."  
The Coon breathed a humored chuckle, ever amused by the Freedom Pals less than 'super heroic' approaches to saving the day. He always felt their rivals operated more like a community service, whereas his team would've put all their efforts into tracking down those responsible.   
The other Coon Friends, however, were always impressed at the Freedom Pal's willingness to do even the mundane things to help out those in need. So while the Coon silently smiled a knowing grin, the others offered approving nods and waited for more of the story.   
"But that afternoon, we finally got a clue about where the vandals hung out at night." The young hero's voice was beginning to sound more excited and strangely strained. "A manager from one of the restaurants said he always heard talking and loud noises coming from a back alley nearby at night. So we... We sort of..." Toolshed began trailing off into a nervous muttering, almost as if his ability to speak was slowly escaping his hold. He was fast approaching the apex of the story; the true body of their all important message. His face began to heat up as he realized just what he was about to cause to these; his former allies. And though he tried all he could to persist in his story telling, knowing that it was the job he was sent here to do, it was all too clear that his heart simply wouldn't let him.   
Thankfully, Mysterion could tell the instant his teammates confidence began to wane, and he was quick to take his place and deliver the difficult message in his sted.   
"We waited for night fall and went to the ally ourselves. All of us." Mysterion shook his head, his nerves just barely showing through his dark facade. "But things quickly got out of hand. These vandals; I guess they had something else to hide, because they attacked us with everything they had. Bats, pipes, chains, you name it. We held them off for as long as we could. It was clear that we had to get out of there immediately."  
The two Freedom Pals closed their eyes. They couldn't bear to watch the reactions from the silent listeners surrounding them.  
"We... Wanted to tell you this ourselves before you heard it from anyone else. We did manage to escape in the end. Most of us, that is.   
"But Wonder Tweek... He didn't make it out in time. Blunt force trauma, I'm sure.  
"Tweek passed away only an hour or so later."

 

For just a brief moment, it felt as if the standard passage of time within the depths of the Coon Lair came to a sudden and sickening halt. A seismic quake of shock and disbelief tore through the room, rattling bones and sending a haunting, icy chill surging through veins. Though they were all sure of what they had heard, the Coon Friends wanted so badly to believe that it wasn't true; perhaps the Freedom Pals had misspoken or even flat out lied. But the woeful way in which the pair held their heavy heads with their solemn gaze to the floor was all the proof they needed to know that this truth was all too real.   
"No..." Mosquito's quivering whisper broke the uneasy silence all around. "It... It can't be..."  
But as the team of Coon Friends began to accept their situation and started to individually react, they were all struck with the same concerned thought.   
And that's when all eyes fell on Super Craig.   
Much to everyone's surprise, the blue clad brutalist hadn't even budged at the shocking announcement. He sat steady as a stone in his chair, still facing the far wall with a thumb absently scrolling through the website feed on his phone. It was hardly the reaction anyone had expected; even the two Freedom Pals raised their gaze with quizzical expressions. It was as if he hadn't heard the message at all.  
The Human Kite took a cautious step closer to the back of his stoic teammate. "Craig..." He offered delicately. "Craig, I'm so sorry..."  
Super Craig didn't shift an inch. "For what?" He asked in a flat tone, sounding genuinely unaffected.   
"C-Craig, didn't you he-hear them?" Fastpass quietly responded, tilting his head just slightly. "They said th-that Wonder Twee-"  
"I heard what they said." Super Craig quickly shot back, still un-moving but with the slightest hint of frustration rising in his voice. "I don't see what that has to do with me."  
All the other heroes in the lair stood still, frozen in place by his baffling words. "Well, I mean..." Human Kite put a hand to his own neck. "I... We just thought, since he's your, you know, boyfriend and all, that..-"   
Super Craig instantly whipped his head around to fire a wickedly piercing glare at the ally pestering him, his eyes alight with fury. "He WAS my boyfriend!" He snarled, his voice subtly rising in volume. "But then he decided to walk out on me! We were broken up! He wasn't ANYTHING to me!"  
The Human Kite's mouth hung agape in response to the surprising declaration. When Super Craig finally turned back to his device, Kite checked to see if he wasn't the only one in disbelief at what he was hearing. Sure enough, he was met with several flabbergasted shrugs and expressions laced with shock and concern. Even the less than empathetic Coon had his brow held in a distressed arch, his mind a chaotic whirlwind of confused thoughts.   
Toolshed drew in a long breath, wondering if perhaps he had been wrong about how horrible this information relay would be.   
One hero reacted a bit differently, however. He knew what the sting of heart break and grief felt like first hand, and immediately wanted to comfort his life-long friend. Despite him claiming otherwise, Mosquito was convinced Super Craig's words were false, and so approached him from behind in a slow, meaningful embrace as he would with someone in mourning.   
"It's alright to feel upset, Craig." He murmured softly, sympathetic tears beginning to streak his cheeks. "I know you wish you could've been there to protect him. I know how much you want to blame yourself. But I know Tweek would never pin something like this on you. He knew just like all of us that these things just... sometimes happen."  
The snapping of Super Craig's patience was almost audible. He bolted upright in an instant, nearly hurling Mosquito off of him as he broke free of the unwanted contact. With his phone clenched tightly in a white knuckled grip, he suddenly and furiously spun around, practically engulfed in an inferno of blind rage, his teeth bared in a threatening grimace and his posture meant to intimidate.   
"I don't care if Tweek blames me for what happened!!" He roared, the others taking a collective step backwards in astonishment. "It's not MY fault that he left!! It's not MY fault that he didn't want anything to do with me anymore!! It's not MY fault that I didn't mean anything to him!!"  
"Craig, wait-" Mosquito attempted to interject, but was cutoff near immediately.   
"So what if he didn't listen to me and joined the other team!? So what if he went and did something stupid without me!? So what if he got himself killed!!?" Super Craig suddenly threw his phone to the floor with all his strength, shattering the electronic with a sickening snap in an explosion of glass and metal. "It's not MY fault that he got in over his head!!"  
"Please, Craig! You need to calm down!!" Captain Diabetes lifted his hands in defense.   
Nothing seemed to stop the heroes outrage. He quickly lifted the chair he had been sitting in only moments ago and held it high above his head. "It's not MY fault I wasn't there!! It's not MY fault I couldn't protect him!!" Super Craig turned and hurled the seat at a few of the larger cardboard instruments decorating the Coon Lair, earning multiple gasps between the heavy sounds of crashing and tearing.   
"Knock it off, Craig!!" The Coon hissed.  
"So what if he's gone!? So what if I'll never see him again!!? SO WHAT IF HE WAS THE ONLY PERSON I CARED ABOUT IN THIS WHOLE GOD FORSAKEN TOWN!!??" Super Craig's anger reached its inevitable peak, and he instantly flipped the huge meeting table end over end in a chorus of loud clanking, the other heroes leaping backwards quickly to avoid the heavy objects path.   
All at once, every drop of white hot rage suddenly cooled into crippling anguish. The sturdy walls of Super Craig's heart finally gave way; his quivering legs buckled beneath his weight and he fell to his knees in a choked scream from his very core before transitioning to a miserable, grief stricken sobbing, burying his face in his trembling palms. His back heaved as a withering torrent of sorrow overtook him, and he found himself unable to move or even slow the cascade of tears that escaped him in woeful wails.  
Mosquito, though thoroughly spooked by the initial fury and violent reaction to the point that his bones quite literally rattled in fear, once more took the opportunity to approach his undone ally. With his own tears spilling at a rate that could rival Super Craig's, he knelt down to his friend and opened his arms in an inviting manner, allowing the other hero to decide for himself if he wanted the contact or not.   
This time, however, Super Craig eagerly threw himself into Mosquito's embrace, his arms pulling him closer with every ounce of strength he had, burying his face into the soft fabric of his shirt. The steady march of overpowering emotion continued through his mind as the sobering reality of the situation sunk in, and he pressed his cries deeper into Mosquito's chest. The insectoid hero gently returned his hold, running a soothing touch down Super Craig's tightly curled back and breathing understanding phrases into the crook of his neck.  
Super Craig paused his sobs long enough to draw in one long, shuddering inhale. "It's not my fault I never got to tell him I was sorry..." He whispered.  
Toolshed had heard about people collapsing in sorrow. He had heard sayings of people "breaking" under extreme stress. But until today, he had questioned the saying, wondering what someone could do that could possibly be described as "breaking". Now, as his glistening blue eyes found themselves glued to the hero of the same color, he realized exactly what a broken man looked like.  
And the part that made him feel sick to his stomach was the fact that it was he himself who had broken the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested in the happier ending, I should have Chapter 3 up within a day or two!


	3. Our Wounds Shall Heal (Optional Happier Ending)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADS UP: This chapter of the story is ENTIRELY OPTIONAL. It brings the tale full circle to a much happier ending. If you prefer a sad and somber ending, then THE LAST CHAPTER WAS THE END OF THE STORY. This addition is ONLY for the happy ending. 
> 
> I am so so sorry for taking so dang long on this. I wound up dealing with a hundred obstacles I hadn't expected. But please enjoy this lighter end to the tale!  
> And if you enjoy this story, be sure to check out my other story Not Our First Abduction! And find me on tumblr under the username CoffeeFueledAuthor or Frillythingy if you want arts! And feel free to contact me there any time!

"At exactly 12 noon, every member of Freedom Pals will be meeting in the neutral territory just beside Stark's Pond. We are going to begin sorting out Wonder Tweek's final affairs as well as deciding the best way to go about informing his parents. Because he was an Ex-Coon Friend, we feel you all deserve your own say in these matters. If you wish to be a part of these decisions, meet us there precisely at noon with every member of your team. Until then, we ask that you refrain from sharing any info of this incident with anyone outside our two hero leagues."

Those had been the ominous words that the two Freedom Pals had left the Coon and Friends with just before departing on their solemn trek back home. It hadn't been a pleasant experience on anyone's end. The sickening feeling of guilt had Toolshed throwing up by the time they returned outside, leaving him weak and reliant upon Mysterions sympathetic hold to keep him steady for the walk back to base. The Coon Friends, meanwhile, had been left to pick up the pieces of what the shock and sadness had broken inside them. The only thing that had allowed Super Craig to finally quiet his cries was the fact that he had run out of tears to spill. His grief was so strong that he was eventually left too physically fatigued to continue. 

Being tired didn't stop him, however, from accompanying his team when the time came and they set out for the designated meeting place indicated by the Freedom Pals. Weary, defeated, and entirely grief stricken, Super Craig still stubbornly refused to stay behind for the trip. If anyone was going to make decisions for Wonder Tweek in his absence, he was going to make certain he had his say. 

And so the six heroes waited, wandering aimlessly in the quiet street atop the rolling hill, lost in their own somber thoughts. The Human Kite, Captain Diabetes, and Fastpass stood close to one another, still exchanging thoughts of disbelief and mild denial. Mosquito kept a vigilant eye on Super Craig as he paced back and forth, giving his friend ample space but ready to swoop in the instant he was needed. The Coon stood stoically against the gentle breeze, his eyes fixed on where the road descended the hill, his cape and tail aflutter behind him as he kept a lookout for anyone on the approach.

It wasn't long before the rival hero league arrived. The first to cross the crest of the hill and into the Coon Friend's sights was Mysterion, his form clearly tense beneath his billowing cloak, his mask ringed eyes fixated on the ground beneath him. Toolshed wasn't far behind. He looked just as frazzled as he had that morning, if not more so. Yet the Coon's team couldn't help but notice that his expression now appeared less full of sorrow and somehow more fearful than earlier. 

A motorized hum preceded the next hero to appear. Dr. Timothy held a steady hand to the joystick of his wheelchair, guiding it forward at a modest speed. His face, rather than expressing its standard lopsided smile or even his less common concentrated stare, displayed a strange look of anticipation, his eyes darting from hero to hero before finding and locking on to a single person of interest. And following him was Tupperware, the somewhat stiff cyborg-classed hero, his translucent armor making it difficult to fully see his saddened expression. In fact, no one seemed to even notice as he lifted his gaze and it shifted immediately to shock and confusion when he caught sight of the blue clad brutalist pacing back and forth uneasily. 

One final figure crested the shallow hill with its fellow heroes. 

His tear streaked face was beat red with sorrow, pain, and exhaustion. Tangled strands of wild blonde hair clung to his salt crusted cheeks and forehead, his headband doing little to control the unruly mane. Sporadic sniffles accompanied by hushed whimpers could be heard escaping between his lips. He lifted a gloved hand to his eyes in an attempt to wipe away a few rouge tears, but this was made difficult by the nervous twitches that jolted his form and caused his muscles to clench randomly. His vision, still heavy with a hollowing sadness, was cast downward across the asphalt below, leaving him unaware of the Coon Friend's stunned stares locking onto him one by one. 

Only as the last Coon Friend glanced up did he lift his gaze. Their eyes met, and he froze solid mid stride, a swell of a thousand different emotions crashing into him at light speed.

Super Craig felt the same rush of feelings surging through him when their sights met. For standing frozen before him was none other than Wonder Tweek himself. 

 

A mutual stunned silence befell all those present on the hill that moment, be they Coon Friend or Freedom Pal. A thousand unanswered questions hung uncomfortably in the air, and yet, though mouths hung agape, not a word could be spoken. Instead, the heroes focused their shocked attention on Super Craig, Wonder Tweek, and the seemingly infinite space between them. Neither seemed to move an inch since their gazes happened upon each other. In fact, if not for the unmistakable rising and falling of their chests and shoulders, one easily may have mistaken the two for statues. 

It felt as though the unnatural stillness lasted for ages before suddenly, finally, the super duo simultaneously conceded. Almost as if choreographed, the two boys took off at exactly the same instant, madly bolting directly towards one another as fast as their legs could carry them. The strength behind their collision, particularly on Wonder Tweek's end, had had enough strength behind it that it had nearly sent Super Craig flying backwards, their limbs tangling in a chaotic yet heartfelt embrace upon impact. It was impossible to tell who had shed the first tear, as both had quickly succumbed to their overwhelming feelings of confusion, relief, and regret. 

"Tweek..." Super Craig choked out the words between hoarse, uneven breaths. "I heard... I mean, I thought that... you..." 

"It really IS you!!" Wonder Tweek cried, interrupting before Craig could finish, his face roughly buried in his deep blue winter jacket. "Mysterion told me... He told me that you died!! I thought I'd never see you again..."

Emerald green eyes shot open in an instant. Craig would have pulled away then, but since the thought of having lost his sidekick forever was still so fresh in his mind, he refused to separate even an inch from the other boy's hold. Instead, he tightened his nearly suffocating grip, wide eyes darting wildly among the Freedom Pals he could see past Tweek's shoulder. 

"No, I didn't..!" Super Craig almost sounded indignant, as if an accusation had been made against himself. "They told me it was YOU who died! They said you got killed out on some mission last night, so we were supposed to come here to settle your final affairs or something."

Wonder Tweek roughly shook his head, both to respond to Craigs previous statement and to nuzzle his tear streaked face even further into the familiar embrace. 

Having been caught red handed, Mysterion and Toolshed took on far more submissive stances, their eyes shying away from the brutalists out of raw guilt. Tupperware noticed the subtle movement and turned his shocked expression towards them, a muffled "You knew about this?" echoing from within his plastic helmet. 

Normally, one would've expected Tweek and Craig to respond to this startling revelation with an appalled anger, furious at their own friends for telling such heart breaking lies for seemingly no reason. But the immense relief from discovering that the one they thought they had lost was still alive and well overwhelmed all other emotions. 

That, and the realization that they still had time to repair what had been broken between them, for nothing had been more devastating than thinking they had missed their final chance to say they were sorry.

So the accusing glare the Freedom Pals had braced themselves for never manifested in the glistening green eyes still pointed their way. Instead, they were squeezed shut tight once more while Super Craig re-positioned himself until his heated face was fully hidden within the crook of Wonder Tweek's neck. The two stood pressed together like that for a good while, taking a moment to truly appreciate the presence of one another; their embrace, their warmth, their scent. 

Finally, after an extended silence, Wonder Tweek reorganized his thoughts with a long, shuddering sigh. "This whole time, I... I just felt so awful." He admitted, uncurling just enough to bring his face out of the muffling fabric. "I never could've forgiven myself for not being there to... to protect you when you needed me most."

Super Craig, feeling that Tweek had voiced his own thoughts exactly, suddenly pulled away from the frazzled Freedom Pal, holding his shoulders at arms length so he could direct his serious expression into quivering blue eyes. "Tweek, I don't want to fight anymore." He stated, his gaze holding firmly in place as if to prove the truth behind his words. "I don't care what start-up plan we follow or what franchise we side with. I just want us to be together; to be a team again."

A wide smile instantly bloomed on Wonder Tweek's face, a delicate dusting of red settling on his cheeks. "Wherever you go, I'll be there, right where I should have been all along; at your side." He quoted the cheesy line from the comic verbatim with an airy chuckle, a single tear tracing a path down to his chin. 

Human Kite watched from behind his Coon Friend teammate as he and his sidekick settled comfortably in the embrace once more. Wonder Tweeks words echoed through the wind-based hero's mind on an infinite loop, striking him at his core. Finally, he could take it no longer. It simply hit too close to home. His eyes quickly darted to the Freedom Pals beyond, immediately locking on to Toolshed's eyes that had moved to gaze at him at that same moment. 

Without needing to say a word, the Human Kite took off running across the rolling hill towards the darker haired hero, who had just enough time to open a wide armed invitation before the other plowed into him at full speed. Though their embrace was perhaps less emotional, since neither had been under the false impression that the other had passed on, it was no less meaningful. The two best friends, nay super best friends had been pulled apart by their team's petty squabbles. But watching as Tweek and Craig managed to overcome their rivalry reminded them that their unbreakable bond of friendship was more important than any silly hero league feuding. 

Encouraged by the others, the remaining Coon heroes also moved to reunite with their Freedom Pal friends. Mosquito cheerfully bounded towards Tupperware, who couldn't help but chuckle at his own strained attempts to stiffly approach and embrace his insectoid buddy. Captain Diabetes had followed just behind him, not exactly having a specific friend with which to reunite, but happy enough just to be reunited with everyone as a whole. Fastpass moved carefully towards Professor Timothy, who met him halfway with a push of a lever. While a true hug was made impossible by clunky walking braces and wheelchairs, the two found enough comfort in the minimal gentle contact they could manage. They had once been so close, but allowed this Civil War to drive them so far apart. 

Even the eternally stubborn Coon and the dark and brooding Mysterion were willing to engage in a show of diplomacy. After all, though the two would very often deny it, they knew there was a bond somewhere between them. Whether it was that of friendship or more of a fate based closeness due to the wild ordeals they had endured together was up for debate. But there was no denying that they had at one time been important to one another. So, after seeing all the other reunions and after sharing a mutual shrug of mild indifference, the two did as the rest of their teammates and shared a brief embrace in respect.

As the duos began to release one another, the entire group of super heroes moved together to stand in a single ring in the center of the empty street. Moving just a hair forward to indicate his intentions, Dr. Timothy quickly scrunched his face into a concentrated glare, a single finger pressed firmly into his forehead. 

"Tweek, Craig; I must apologize for causing you both so much emotional pain." The others perceived his projected thoughts. "Know that it was not a decision I made lightly. But I feared that the only thing that could ever hope to bring our teams together once more was to force a member each to experience just how devastated they would feel to lose the other forever. I had placed my faith in the overwhelming relief of your reunion allowing you to see past our team's simple differences, and trusted the others would quickly follow suit."

Mysterion gently elbowed Toolshed beside him, flashing a knowing smirk. "What did I say?" He whispered. "Dr. Timothy always has his reasons."

Toolshed couldn't help but smile in response. Yet, though Mysterion had been right from the beginning, the entire experience was not one that Toolshed would ever be willing to repeat, even knowing the end from the get go. 

"I do hope that you can forgive me for taking such drastic measures." Dr. Timothy continued, looking to the super duo in question. "But we are so much stronger as one single assembly, and I saw no other way to make us whole again."

Though Super Craig remained silent, it was clear by his contented expression that anger had eluded him. Wonder Tweek, however, was quick to offer a cheerful nod. "We forgive you." He nodded, interrupted occasionally by a random twitch here and there. "I'm just glad we can be on one team again."

"Yes. Today, we are all Freedom Pals." Mysterion proclaimed with enthusiasm. 

"Oh. So... We're keeping the name Freedom Pals, huh?" The Coon's mumbled, his words drenched in obvious disappointment, earning him the indifferent stares of all the other heroes present. 

But Dr. Timothy was on top of that too. "Yes, we are." He began. "From here on out, we shall be known as Coon and Freedom Pals."

The spark that lit in The Coons eyes at the minor title adjustment was unmistakable. "Coon and Freedom Pals, you say?" He grinned, running a metal claw along his chin. "I think I can get used to it..."

And so, the single band of super heroes happily began their journey back into town, ready to see what incredible adventures awaited them, with Super Craig and Wonder Tweek behind all the others, walking hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Please be sure to let me know what you thought, as it helps me to write better and faster in the future!
> 
> Do be sure to check out Not Our First Abduction if you liked this story! It is a longer, adventure style novel that sticks as close to canon as possible! And keep an eye out for my upcoming Clyde based one shot, if you are looking for more sad, emotional tales! 
> 
> To contact me, just find me on tumblr under the name CoffeeFueledAuthor. If ya message me, you can see all sorts of concept art unavailable anywhere else, heh. Or check out the tumblr name Frillythingy to see my regular art
> 
> Stay awesome, my friends~


End file.
